


Dishonesty, American Holidays, and Several Other Things Medic Did Not Have A Problem With

by salainen



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 20:38:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2082366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salainen/pseuds/salainen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an attempt to stop his mother from trying to set him up, Engineer brings home his "boyfriend" for Thanksgiving.</p>
<p>Picking Medic to pose as said boyfriend was probably not his best decision. Or maybe it was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dishonesty, American Holidays, and Several Other Things Medic Did Not Have A Problem With

“Mama, for the last time, don't set me up with anyone!” Engineer says into the base's telephone. He's making plans to visit her next time he has time off – two weeks from now, a week's vacation for Thanksgiving – and as usual, she's trying to get her only son married off. “I don't care if you met a nice girl at church, I don't want to be set up!”

She asks why not.

“Because I don't want you to,” he says. “Ain't that enough?”

She says it's not.

“Well, maybe I already met someone,” he says, then immediately regrets it.

She says she didn't know there were any girls out there.

“There ain't.”

Silence.

Well, she says, eventually, she still wants to meet this fella. When he comes home. What's he like?

“He's --” Engie runs through the possibilities. Pyro can't take their mask off, and Spy won't, which takes them out. Scout's too young, Demo too destructive, Heavy too Russian. Soldier probably wouldn't take well to the deception. He could ask Sniper, he supposes, but then Spy would likely slit his throat for his trouble. That leaves... “He's a doctor.”

His mother says that at least if he's going to go that way he knows how to pick his men.

Engie pulls his hardhat over his face.

* * *

“Good afternoon, Engie,” Medic says when he walks into the infirmary. The doves are sitting on Medic's shoulders as he feeds them from his hand.

“Hey, doc,” he says. “Listen, I'm going home to Texas for the furlough --”

“Ah, yes, you need me to exchange your prosthetic for your real hand,” he says, putting down the birdseed and picking up a jar with a preserved hand in it.

“No. I mean, yeah, I need you to do that, but it's not why I came down here.” He steels his nerves. “I need to ask you a question. It might make you want to punch me, so if you do I just ask that it's not in the face.”

Medic tilts his head in curiosity. “Engie, what are you planning on asking me?”

“Do you want come home with me for Thanksgiving?”

“Why would I want to punch you for that?” he asks, puzzled.

“That ain't the whole story. I kind of told my mama that I was ...bringing my boyfriend.”

“You don't have a boyfriend,” is all Medic says.

“I know that! But I told her I got one and that he was a doctor.”

“Ah. So you want me to pretend to be this 'boyfriend' for the holiday.”

“Yeah,” Engie says, wincing away from Medic.

“ _Ja_ , fine. I have no qualms about dishonesty, homosexuality, or American holidays. I would be honoured to accompany you to Texas.”

“Really?” Engineer says, finally stopping his preparations for being punched.

“Yes,” Medic says, emphatically. “We are friends, as a European I don't celebrate the holiday on my own, and frankly I've always wondered what everyone's home lives are like.”

Engie breathes a sigh of relief. “Thanks, doc. I owe you one.”

Medic waves a hand (the one not in a jar). “Don't worry about it. Now, should I take a look at your hand?”

* * *

“All right, last minute rules,” Engie says as they pull off the highway towards Bee Cave, “don't tell my mother about any of your experiments. Or the Gunslinger. Don't feel like you have to answer all of Mama's questions. And it's probably best if you call me by name instead of 'Engie'.”

Medic turns to look at him instead of out the window. “And what is your name?”

“Oh, right! Forgot I need to actually tell it to you. Dell Conagher, at your service.” He sticks out a hand for Medic to shake. He takes it, laughing a little bit.

“Dell, then,” he says, settling back for the last few minutes of the long drive.

Engie's mother still lives in the family estate – he himself owns his own house but rarely uses it because of his job. The house is an enormous white Victorian, immaculately kept and freshly-painted. Medic looks at it approvingly as they step onto the porch.

“Mama,” Engie calls, walking in the door with their suitcases, “we're here.”

“Dell!” she exclaims, running to the foyer from the sitting room. “I didn't even hear y'all pull up. This must be your ...doctor.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Conagher,” says Medic, actually bowing. “You have a lovely home.”

“Well, aren't you sweet,” she says. “And y'all can just call me Mary. We're not big on ceremony here.”

Medic turns to Engie for guidance in how to proceed. He jumps in. “Just call him Medic,” he says. “You know how the company is about names.”

“Oh, yes,” Mary says. “Your daddy used to bring home his friends from work and it was all 'Soldier' this and 'Heavy' that. I had almost forgotten. Should I be calling you 'Engineer' while you're home?”

“Nah,” Engie says, “everyone here knows I'm Dell.”

“All right, sweetheart. You know which room I've set up for y'all, so go take those bags upstairs and I'll get some tea for your _beau_ here.”

He gives Medic a meaningful look -- _remember what I told you in the truck!_ \-- and heads upstairs.

“You do like tea, right?” Mary asks when it's just the two of them.

“Yes, _danke_ ,” he says.

She carries the tray into the sitting room when the tea's ready, and the two of them sit mixing their cups.

“So,” she starts. “You're from Germany?”

“Yes, from a town near Stuttgart,” he says. He doesn't like to talk about his home with non-Germans; thanks to fairly recent events they always assume the worst of him. Admittedly, he's not a very good man, but he's not of that particular brand of evil, either. “It's quite small, but my family has lived there for generations.”

“Kind of like my husband's family,” says Mary. “The Conaghers have been in Bee Cave for god knows how long, though of course Dell and his father both spent a lot of time away working.”

“Yes, you said En – Dell's father was also a BLU employee?”

“Yeah, he did the same work Dell does now. It was his grandaddy that started the tradition, though his work was a little different. Not supposed to talk about that, though,” she says with a wink.

Medic doesn't tell her that he already knows a certain amount about Radigan Conagher's work – he did help Engineer with the Gunslinger, after all. 

“But enough about work,” she says, smiling, “I'd like to hear about you and my boy.”

He suffers the temptation to make up something outlandish and embarrassing, but even Medic has standards and he can't find it in himself to tell Engineer's tiny smiling mother (this visit is explaining so much about Engie already) anything particularly horrible. 

“Well,” he starts, “as you can imagine, we met on the first day I arrived at BLU. I was setting up my infirmary, when all of the sudden someone bursts through the doors, shouting like a madman.”

“It wasn't Dell,” Mary says, looking like she'd smack Engie upside the head for not using his indoor voice.

“No, it was actually the Demoman. I turn around, and lying in Demo's arms is Engie, his hands over his face. It turns out he was building some contraption or other and had it blow up in his face, quite literally.”

“Oh, my,” she says, eyes wide. “You must be a good doctor, because that sounds serious!”

“Some might say that,” he says, evasively. “So I spent two hours picking shrapnel out of Dell's face, and we had a lovely conversation, at least after I gave him some painkillers.”

“You two have been together that long?!”

“What? Oh, no, that's just how we met. It was the first time he slept in one of my beds, however,” he says, giving her a sly smile so she knows he's kidding. “The actual getting together was a slow process. We have been close since that first day – we build together, we take meals together, we play a lot of chess – but it wasn't until a few months ago that things became romantic between us.”

Mary is smiling at him as he talks. “How did that happen?”

He takes a sip of tea to come up with something mother-appropriate. “We were on the base roof, birdwatching – I am very fond of birds, you see – and Dell took my hand and said 'Doc, how'd you like to be my partner,' and I was very confused, because as I'm sure you know he says 'partner' about a lot of things. But eventually he managed to clarify, and obviously I said yes.”

Mary is looking a little misty. Medic considers this a job well done, though now he's likely going to have to deal with someone emotional and that never goes well.

Luckily for him, Engie strolls back into the room. “Bags are all unpa—Mama, are you crying? Doc, what did you say to my mother?”

“I was telling her how we started our relationship,” he says. 

This does not soothe Engineer's nerves at all.

“What did you say to my mother?” he asks again.

“I only said that you took my hand on the roof and asked me,” Medic says, trying to convey “ _you should be playing along_ ” with only his eyes. “I left out the more ...unsavoury parts.”

That takes the misty look out of Mary's eyes. “I'll go get some more biscuits,” she says, hurrying away.

“I didn't tell her anything embarrassing or sexual,” Medic hisses when she's out of earshot. “I left the story of how we first met intact --”

“Aw, not the one about me blowing my face off and you getting me all doped up.”

“-- and made something simple up for the beginning of the romantic portion of our relationship. Just follow along with anything we say about it and you'll be fine,” he finishes.

“All right, all right, sorry for doubting you, doc.”

“Yes, well, you should trust me more if this relationship is going to work out,” he says.

* * *

“So, how are we going to do this?”

The two of them have retired upstairs for the night. Mary has put them in the same room, one of the guest rooms with a queen-sized bed.

“Do what, Engineer?”

“Sleep, doc. There's only one bed.”

“Have you never shared a bed with someone?” He scrutinizes Engie. “No, I wouldn't be surprised if you had not. It's not as though being in a confined space will inevitably lead to inappropriate conduct, though if you are still uncomfortable we can erect a barrier out of pillows or some such.”

“Yeah?”

“Engie,” Medic says, leaning forward onto the bed, “I am not going to forcibly spoon you. Now get ready for bed.”

He vanishes into the bathroom to change. Medic uses this opportunity to put on his own pajamas.

“Bathroom's all yours,” Engie says a couple minutes later. Medic is still shirtless. “Uh, when you're done changing.”

“Thank you,” he says, voice muffled by the shirt he's pulling on.

He returns, teeth brushed and face washed, to find Engie sitting up with a book. “Figured I'd wait for you,” he says. “Huh, that's not what I imagined your pajamas would look like.”

Medic raises an eyebrow. “Is there something wrong with my sleepwear, _Dell_?”

“No! I just sort of pictured you as having like, matching sets and a bathrobe, you know? Not t-shirts and stuff.”

“Why were you picturing this in the first place?”

“I don't know! I think about all kinds of things!” Engie's entire face is red with embarrassment. Medic decides to stop hassling him.

It's only after they turn the lights out and try to sleep that Medic realizes Engineer didn't bother putting up a wall of pillows.

* * *

At breakfast Mary suggests that the two of them go into town so Engie can show Medic around. This is how the two of them find themselves heading down Main Street by late morning.

“Shouldn't we be holding hands or something?” Engineer asks, quietly.

“Why would we do that? Your mother isn't around and it would be putting ourselves at risk.”

“It's a small Southern town,” he explains. “Word gets around. They probably already know about 'Dell Conagher's boyfriend', and I don't want word getting back to Mama that we're anything less than perfectly happy together.”

“This seems like an awful lot of work to avoid blind dates.”

“Shut up and hold my hand, doc.” 

Neither of them are in uniform, so when Medic takes Engineer's offered hand it's skin-on-skin instead of rubber glove-on-rubber glove. Engie's hand is rough and callused from work, but Medic finds it surprisingly pleasant against his own.

“Dell!” calls an older man, walking up to the two of them. “I heard you were coming back for Thanksgiving! How're you doing?”

“I'm just fine, Mister Edwards. How's the family?”

“Oh, they're swell.” He glances at Medic. “This your, uh, boyfriend?”

“No, he just decided to start holding my hand. I don't even know who this is,” Medic says, rolling his eyes.

Mister Edwards barks a laugh. “Got a real funny one. Well, I got to be getting back to the store now. Y'all take care.”

“Bye,” Engie says. “Why'd you have to be so rude?”

“Why does he need to point out the obvious? We all have flaws.”

“Dell, you're back!” It's another man, elderly this time. “How's the job?”

“Oh, you know,” Engie says. “Pays the bills.”

The man laughs. “It better, since it keeps you away so much! Remember to come by the shop if you need anything while you're in town.”

“Thanks, Mister Johnston, I will.”

The old man tips his hat at the two of them and carries on.

“I was expecting him to at least comment on us,” Medic says, watching him go.

Engie shrugs his free shoulder. “Like I said, everyone probably knows about us by now, and the family name holds a lot of weight in this town.”

“Does it?”

“Well, yeah. Everybody knows my grandaddy was a genius with a robot hand and that we're pretty well-off. We're big news in Bee Cave.”

They walk a bit while Medic digests this news.

“Is that Dell Conagher?” says a woman, tapping Engie on the shoulder.

“Annie!” he says, turning around. “Doc, this is Annie; we went to school together.”

“And this must be your fella,” she says, giving Medic the once-over. “He's mighty handsome.”

“Uh, yeah,” Engie says. “He sure is.”

The two of them start gossiping about the town. Medic huffs a sigh and waits. His fingers are still interlocked with Engie's.

“Sorry about that,” he apologizes when Annie makes her goodbyes (with a kiss to Engie's cheek) and hurries off.

“It's fine,” Medic says, absently. “I think that woman is interested in you.”

“What? No she ain't.”

“I would not be so sure. She did give you a kiss when she left.”

“We're friends, doc, people do that with friends.”

“I don't.”

“You're also not a Southern woman, now are you?”

“Obviously not.”

“'Sides, Annie's been married for years.”

“That does not mean anything.”

“It does around here. Family's everything in these parts. It's most of the reason Mama's always trying to marry me off to some girl; keep the family name alive.”

“What's the rest of the reason?”

“Oh, just the usual desire to see your kids happy,” Engie says. “You know how mothers are.”

“I do not,” Medic says. “My mother died when I was very young.”

“I'm sorry, doc,” he says, sounding sincere. He accents this with a squeeze to the hand he's still holding.

“For the sake of argument,” Medic says, a few moments later, “if this Annie was unmarried and the town was not under the illusion that you were with me, would you _want_ her to be interested in you?”

Engineer shrugs. “Not particularly. Like I said, she's a friend. Generally speaking, I don't date my friends.”

“Generally speaking?”

“Well, I made an exception for you, didn't I?” he says, winking.

* * *

“Dell,” his mother says the next morning, “I was going to ask you if you could have a look at my truck while you're down.”

“Of course,” he says. “Any idea what's wrong with her?”

“Not really. Haven't taken it down to Johnston's, either, since I knew you were coming.”

“All righty. Tools are where I left them?”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“Come on, doc,” he says, gesturing to Medic. “I'm going to need your help, I reckon.” Medic isn't exactly an engineer, but he does have some training in the subject – he did build the Quick-Fix himself, after all – and has been serving as Engie's unofficial assistant for quite some time at the base, so it's not surprising that he'd ask Medic to work with him now.

“Don't Conagher-ize anything,” his mother calls at their retreating forms.

The first stop is the workshop, where Engie fills a toolbox seemingly at random, though Medic's seen him working often enough to know that there's thought behind each choice.

The second stop is the garage, currently taken up by several trucks and cars. Engie leads them over to the one in question, the one closest to the door.

“What did your mother mean when she told you not to 'Conagher-ize' anything?” he asks as Engie sets the toolbox down.

He laughs. “As you already know, the family's been engineering for generations. We got a bad habit of doing stuff up to make it more powerful or more dangerous than it used to be – the people who marry into the family call it Conagher-izing.”

“So your mother was asking you not to turn her truck into a giant mobile weapon.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Are you going to listen?”

Engie pauses in his preparations. “Probably not.”

“Excellent choice, _mein Liebling_ ,” he says, laughing.

When they're done, the two of them grease-stained and with their sleeves rolled up, the truck is capable of going twice as fast as it used to and can fire rockets.

“You Conagher-ized it, didn't you,” Mary says when they trudge back inside.

“Couldn't resist,” Engie says, shrugging.

“See what you've gotten yourself into?” she says, pointing at Medic.

“It's one of my favourite things about him.”

Mary looks horrified. “Thank god you two can't have children,” is all she says.

* * *

“I have been wondering,” Medic says, sitting in bed with Engie's book while the man himself brushes his teeth in the attached bathroom, “why _are_ you so averse to your mother's attempts to find you a wife?”

“Because I don't want her to and she keeps doing it?” Engie offers, rinsing.

“But why don't you want her to?”

“I don't know, doc,” he says, getting into bed. “I just never really pictured myself settling down, is all.”

“Ah, me either,” Medic says. “My work is too important to me and it would be exceedingly difficult to find a partner who understands.”

“Exactly. And Mama doesn't understand that. Thinks just because my daddy did both that I should too.”

“You are not your father,” Medic says. “Just as I am not mine.”

“What was your father like?” Engie asks. He can't imagine the sort of person who could have raised _Medic_.

“He was a doctor as well,” Medic says, putting Engie's book aside. “A very reserved man. Stoic, I believe is the word.”

“Sounds a bit like you,” Engie says. “At least the way you were when I first met you.”

“Hm, I suppose. I make an attempt to be polite to strangers, though I believe it often comes out as standoffishness instead.”

“And of course it turns out that you're the silliest one of all of us.”

“I am not _silly_ , I am merely ...cheerful.”

“You're silly as all get-out, doc. Or did you forget about that time you started doing voices for all your birds?”

“I didn't know you were in the room!”

“Or that that you draw pictures with the mustard when you make Sandviches?”

“You know about that?”

“I was taking the tomatoes out,” Engie says. “Couldn't help but notice the top bread had a little face on it.”

“I can't believe you would stop in the middle of a fight to reorganize a sandwich.”

He shrugs. “I really don't like tomatoes.”

“ _Du bist sehr niedlich,_ ” Medic laughs, pinching his cheek.

He blushes a little under Medic's hand. “I have no idea what you're saying, doc, but thanks, I think.”

* * *

“Ah, this drawer's stuck,” Engie says, trying to pull one open in the kitchen. “And of course the grease is way up there. Doc, you're tall, you mind getting that?”

The can of WD-40 is in a cabinet directly above the drawer Engineer is trying to open. “Of course not,” Medic says, coming to stand behind Engie and reaching for it.

“There you go,” he says, watching from where he's bent over the counter. “Almost got it.”

“Yes, I can feel that,” Medic says.

“Just a little more.”

“ _Jawohl!_ ” he says, pulling the can down.

It is, of course, this moment that Engie's mother chooses to walk into the kitchen, where she finds the two of them pressed up against the counter while Medic shouts in triumph.

“In the kitchen, Dell?!” she exclaims, covering her eyes and fleeing.

“What was that about?” Engie asks, bending to fix the drawer. Medic shrugs, still hip-to-hip with him.

* * *

Mary sends the two of them into town to pick up her order from the grocery store. This time, there's no discussion; Engie simply takes Medic's hand as soon as they're out of the truck.

“Afternoon, Dell,” says Mister Edwards, waving from behind the counter. “Here to get your mama's food?”

“Yes sir,” Engie says.

“You know where everything is. Just round it up and come see me when you're done.”

“Will do,” he says.

They start in the produce aisle, collecting potatoes, yams, carrots, onions, and celery and putting them in bags, before moving on to get some bread. It's strangely comfortable, taking on the rhythm of their other work together as they toss the foodstuffs to each other to put in the cart.

Suddenly Engineer ducks into an aisle, pulling Medic along by the sleeve.

“What are you doing?” he asks, simply curious. He pokes his head around the end of the shelves.

“Get back here,” he says, dragging Medic back.

“What is the big issue?”

Engie sighs. “Mike Collins. Used to bully me in school. Still does, really.”

Medic raises an eyebrow. “Engie, I have seen you beat men to death with a wrench. Why are you hiding from this one?”

“I can't go around beating people to death when I'm on vacation,” he says.

“Why not?” Medic asks, grinning unpleasantly.

“Because I'll get arrested, and more than that, Mama would be disappointed.”

“Hm, fair enough. That still doesn't explain why we're hiding.”

“Because I don't want to have to deal with him at all,” Engie says. “If he doesn't see us then nothing will happen.”

“I think it's a little late for that,” Medic says, pointing at the man at the end of the aisle. He's looking in their direction.

“Aw, hell.”

“Don't worry, I think I can scare him away,” he says. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes?”

“Sound more convinced, Dell. Do you trust me?”

“Yeah, I do, doc. What are y--”

He can't finish his question because Medic has pulled him into an embrace and started kissing him. He drops the package of noodles he was holding. Before he can really _decide_ how to react to this, his body does the reacting for him, putting his arms around the doctor and kissing him back.

After what may have been a few minutes or a few seconds, Medic lets him go. He takes a step back, slightly dazed.

“I believe it worked,” he says, gesturing towards the end of the aisle, now free of people.

“Yeah,” says Engie, still not fully recovered. Medic smirks.

“And if he bothers you again while we are here, _I_ have no qualms about killing him.”

* * *

“You boys have fun in town?”

“Oh, yes, it was wonderful,” says Medic. Engie just stands behind him, red as a beet. “I believe we got all of your food, but Dell is holding the list so you would have to ask him.”

“Yeah, we got it all,” he says, putting the bags on the counter and beginning to unpack. There is a very real chance that if the blood doesn't start draining from his face he's going to pass out.

“You don't look so good, sweetheart,” his mother says. “Did something happen while you were gone?”

“No, ma'am,” he says, a little too quickly. “Nothing happened at all.”

“All right,” she says, eyeing the two of them. “I'll just let you finish putting those away.”

“You are reacting quite strangely,” Medic says once she's gone. “If I had known kissing you would have had such an effect I may have just killed him.”

“I'm fine, doc. Just been a while since someone kissed me and you got me by surprise.”

“I haven't traumatized you for life or anything?” he asks, clearly joking.

“No, no. Definitely ...not.”

Medic stops unpacking the food (he was mostly just leaving it on the countertop anyway) and turns to look at Engie.

“That almost sounds as though you enjoyed it.”

The vegetables he was holding hit the ground. “Well, uh, you see, doc,” he starts.

Medic closes the space between them, careful not to step on the onions rolling about. “Don't be so coy, Dell,” he says. “I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't wanted to.”

They hold each other's eyes for what seems like forever.

Engie initiates the kiss this time, but Medic soon takes control, settling him on the countertop to even out their height difference. 

“Wait,” Engineer says after a moment, “we shouldn't be doing this in the middle of the kitchen.”

“Where would you prefer?”

“Not in my mama's house,” he says. “But I think I have an idea.”

He hops off the counter and takes Medic's hand, leading him back outside and into the garage.

“It's a little cliché, I know,” Engie says, getting into one of the cars, “but I figure so is hiding your boyfriend from your parents.”

“Am I your boyfriend now?” Medic says, joining him.

“Well, I'd like you to be, partner,” he says, hand on the back of his head. Medic laughs, remembering what he told Engineer's mother when he arrived.

“Yes, of course!”

And that is how two middle-aged men with twelve doctorates between them wound up making out in the backseat of a Ford like a couple of teenagers.

* * *

If anything can be said about that year's Thanksgiving, it's that it was particularly sexually charged.

Just as the Pilgrims intended.

* * *

“You are so easily embarrassed,” Medic says, currently on top of a furiously blushing Engineer. “It is very precious.”

“Shut up,” he says. “You'd be flustered too if you were underneath a crazy German in your mother's guest room.”

“Does that mean you'll stop when we get back to the base?”

“Well, that depends,” Engie says. “I mean, both the labs are soundproof, but the rest of the base ain't.”

“I never would have expected you to suggest such a thing, _mein Ingenieur._ ”

“Why not?”

“You just strike me as the type who wishes to limit things to the bedroom.”

Engie flips them over so that he's sitting on a surprised Medic. “You're about to learn all sorts of things about me, then, doc.”

* * *

“It was lovely to see you again, sweetheart,” says Mary as they load up Engie's truck. “And wonderful to meet you, Medic.”

“ _Ja_ , thank you for inviting me,” he says. “I had a wonderful time.”

“Good,” she says, smiling. “Y'all come back soon, all right?”

“We'll be back for Christmas, you know that,” Engie says from where he's securing their luggage in the bed of the truck. He finishes the job and jumps down.

“You never know, with couples,” she says. “Maybe he's got family for you to meet.”

“I do not,” Medic says, sparing Engie from trying to guess.

“Well, then, you're one of us now.” She stands on her tiptoes to give Medic a kiss on the cheek. “Drive safe, now. And be careful at work, both of you.”

“We will, Mama,” Engie says, giving her a kiss and getting in the truck. Medic gets in on the other side, waving at Mary. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, sweetheart.”

* * *

If they get kicked out of a roadside motel in the middle of the night, that's just between the two of them, the surly man who owns the place, and the small wad of cash Medic gives him to replace the bed.

* * *

“Looks like Truckie and the doc are back,” Sniper says, peering out the window. All the others, sans Scout, who has not returned from his own Thanksgiving, join him there.

“Are they ...kissing?” Demo says, rubbing his eye.

“Ah, piss,” Sniper says. “Knew I shouldn't've bet against them.”

“Who had 'their fake relationship turns real while they are away'?” Spy asks, pulling out a stack of bills.

“Mrr,” says Pyro, raising a hand.

“Congratulations,” Spy says, giving them the money. “Both on your winnings and your new mother.”

“Hrrh?” Pyro asks, head tilted quizzically. 

“Hey, y'all, we're back,” Engie says, the two of them coming in the base door. Within seconds he has an armful of excited Pyro. “I missed you too, buddy.”

“Mrrdrrc, rr yrr mrr mrrthrr?” they ask, still holding onto Engie.

“What?!”

“Rrt's whrrt Sprr srrd.”

“Heh, I guess everyone already knows, huh?” Engie laughs, disentangling himself from Pyro's grip.

“Yes,” choruses the team.

“Well, that saves us an awkward team meeting,” Engie says. "And Spy, I've told you not to make those jokes a hundred times."

Spy just shrugs.

“ _Sehr gut._ ” Medic picks Engineer up and starts to walk away. “Now, if anyone needs us, we'll be in the infirmary.”

“Knock first!”

**Author's Note:**

> My favourite trope + me wanting more Science Party to exist = this fic.
> 
> As always, I take prompts/requests both here and on [Tumblr](http://gilgameshwulfenbach.tumblr.com).


End file.
